


saw your plane make a circle 'round my head

by solwayfirth



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Multi, NOT THE HAPPIEST FIC but theres a Memory of a Moment, Other, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, and well writing it made me fuzzy so theres that if u want, um . a fuckload of envy and some self loathing lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solwayfirth/pseuds/solwayfirth
Summary: it hurts, it trulydoesfucking hurt, for so, so many reasons. it’s a hurt that burns the entire cavity of his chest, it's searing and heavy and weighs ghoul down. it hurts like this ‘cause he hadn't expected to see jet and pony together when he did; he hadn't seen it coming, and when it hit him it blinded him.fuck,he loves him, he fuckinglovesjet star. maybe in some other time, some other world, this news’d be relieving, but now it just makes ghoul feel sick too; not the same sickness that party’s got, not the sickness where they’ll look at pony like they’re their whole entire world, no, ghoul’s sick in thegreenway.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Jet Star (Danger Days), Jet Star/Show Pony (Danger Days), Party Poison/Show Pony (Danger Days)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	saw your plane make a circle 'round my head

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [just like kisses on the necks of best friends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564220) by [radioteeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioteeth/pseuds/radioteeth). 



> the title is taken from _my heart of glass_ by ghostemane!  
>  ** _(tw for (vague) references to drug usage and od'ing, insect/bug mention, emeto mention, (casual and allegorical) suicidal thoughts)_**

it’s green.

this… feeling he’s got. it’s uncomfortable and makes ghoul feel like he can't breathe, almost. he doesn't really know any other way to describe it other than just _green_. it’s different from him being known as green, ‘cause he knows ‘his color’ is green. it’s what everyone associates him with. but this isn't like green being ‘his color’. no, what this is, is ghoul _feeling_ green. it’s not exactly like when people say they're feeling blue, 'cause someone just floats ‘em a couple red pills and then they fly away and they're fine afterwards. usually. if the neon-garbage angels don't nab 'em while they’re not paying attention during their time up there in the sky with ‘em, first. he’s already tried as many red ones as he can take before coughing up shades to match, and none of 'em are working.

it doesn't make sense, but it's a nasty feeling though. all ghoul _does_ know is that even though it’s not directly _his_ fault, this is ‘cause of jet. he can't tell him ‘cause he’ll flip out and start trying to coddle him, which he appreciates to an extent, ‘cause he knows jet’s only got good intentions with him, but he can't stand being coddled, treated like a child, not even by someone who makes him feel the way he does, like jet. he doesn't want to lash out at him for just wanting to help. so it's best he bites his tongue, at least for now. unfortunately, this still leaves dear old ghoulie in quite the fucking predicament: he feels green, absolutely beyond consumed, almost like it’s a fire, by _green_ , every time he sees jet and pony. not separately or anything, but just… just the both of 'em. together. just those two being in the same room, same area.

and it's not pony’s fault either, ghoul knows this, too. he adores pony, they’re one of his oldest friends, and they let him run with them whenever he needed to lay low, when he was still just wandering the desert. they’ve also saved his ass plenty of times, too; ghoul’ll always be grateful to them for that. still, whatever reason there may be as to why he’s being eaten alive by this feeling of green; this dark, grimy, sludgey, sewage-y green, ghoul is sure that it isn't anybody’s fault. this knowledge doesn't help much, though. he still feels pure green bleed into his vision when he sees pony talking to jet, jet talking to pony, jet laughing at pony’s jokes, pony laughing at jet’s jokes, them both touching each other, even if it's just hugging or an accidental brush of the hand, even when jet looks at pony the way he looks at jet, the way party looks at pony. logically speaking, it isn't anyone’s fault, it really isn’t, but when he sees it happen it feels like it's both of _their_ faults anyway, and he knows that’s so, so selfish to think. it drives him fucking _crazy_. 

but he’s known jet longer. he’s the one who’s gonna die for him. why does pony get to be the one who makes jet laugh, and smile, and blush, and look at them with that _look_ in his eyes? the same look that party will look at pony with when they're “jokingly” flirting with them? the same look that ghoul knows he's looking at jet with, even when he's trying to hide it? the same fucking look they will look back at him with? he was absolutely certain that his choked up gestures of affection were getting through to jet. he’d been positive that jet was reciting… reciping… no, that's not it. reciprocating… yeah. that's it. reciprocating his affections, can he really not think straight? he’d been _so_ absolutely completely for sure entirely _convinced_ that jet felt the same way, that he was returning the feelings ghoul’d had during those longer-than-normal hugs. the same feelings ghoul had when jet’d smile at him, even when his repair jobs weren't going as planned and he was getting frustrated but wouldn't drop it, either, 'cause that dedication and drive to get something done once he started it — his code of honor thing — was something he always liked about him. 

the same feelings he had when he managed to scrape up just enough glitter, gunpowder, and strontium and copper salts, that he used his next month’s worth of carbons to get, to make a firework just for him on his birthday. the same feelings that made his hands shake and sweat and tremble on the steering wheel the entire time they drove out to the same spot in the desert where they first met, and watched the stars ‘til ghoul's nerves’d calmed down enough for him to set the birthday cake up and launch it without losing an eye or a finger. the same feelings he had when he saw jet’s face lighting up, not from the lights of the homemade pyrotechnics, but from something _more_ , something in his eyes that ghoul saw burning. some sort of _emotion_. emotion that _he_ made jet feel. emotion dripping from his voice when he softly muttered “it’s just like d.c.,” just fucking _drowning_ in that emotion, almost like he was seeing _home_ in those lights. the very same emotion sparkling in his eyes, even more than the sparks of the skydancer, when he turned to look into ghoul’s soul and say nothing more than a “thank you” with a smile that was soft at the corners of his mouth, but crinkled the corners of his eyes, one that showed the dimples on his cheeks he was silently so self-conscious of for whatever reason, as he threaded those strong, yet gentle, warm, and _safe_ fingers together with ghoul’s, watching the lights paint the sky colors that better living could never outright ban, 'cause they couldn't even imagine 'em.

it was _him_ who did that, so why the fuck is pony the one who makes jet bring out his dimples when he smiles at them, and makes him crinkle his eyes and nose now, is the one who gets the sweet sound of him trying and failing to stifle those little snorts and giggles and finally deep-in-his-chest laughter, without the need for a grand gesture of affection with a skyblazer, when ghoul’s been the one who’s been making him do it longer? is he just not good enough anymore? _why_ is he not good enough for anymore? is it ‘cause he lacks sex appeal that pony has? they’re crazy fuckin’ cool, too. people sometimes say ghoul’s _cute_ , but cute isn't mature and hot, and pony’s _mature_ and _hot_. they’re what ghoul’s _not_ , they’re like jet, not him. they're almost blindingly bright and flamboyant and magnetic. they’re sweeter than an android girl and are… genuinely a good person, which is so much more than what he can say about himself. they’re soft and sincere when you discard their façade of being cruel and apathetic, only here for the party and living like they won’t see tomorrow (ghoul’d know that much. pony’s trusted him with far too much, and he thinks that maybe it's just him who doesn't trust others enough) — they're shiny. he won't pretend and lie about what is and isn't true. pony’s honestly great. but ghoul? he doesn't have anything going on.

he’s not like pony whatsoever, there’s no effortless grace on his part, and he knows that they're _beautiful_ , _so much more beautiful_ than _he_ is. most of these asshole zone rats like to think of him as a fucking _animal_ half the time, anyway, let alone an angel on skates. but _jet_ doesn't think of him like an animal, he treats him like a normal person, from the very day they met. he doesn't make ghoul feel weird; he makes him feel almost like he belongs somewhere other than a rebellion bigger than he and his whole life’re. with him, he thinks. 

pony… he gets the feeling they've been kissed a lot. ghoul’s only ever kissed someone _once_ , and that was just jet in a _dream_. jet’s probably one of those people who’ve kissed pony, he thinks again.

it makes him greener.

it also makes him wonder: was he ever even good enough for someone like _jet star_ in the first place? had he just not noticed his own insufficiency ‘cause he was too caught up with just having jet in his life and it one day amounting to something more in his daydreams? was he so selfish that he just never realized that jet’s behavior was him caring about ghoul like any other friend, and nothing more? oh, _destroya_ , was thinking that a mistake. it's all coming together now; that's right. jet probably doesn't even think anything of how ghoul can't get any words out when he’s around him, how his face’ll get two shades redder and his heart rate’ll keep pace with a rabbit's when he’s helping him practice shooting, or worse, he _has_ noticed, and he not only doesn't feel the same way, but finds ghoul to be a fucking creep now! by the fucking witch, why not just put him out of his misery at this point?

it hurts, it truly _does_ fucking hurt, for so, so many reasons. it’s a hurt that burns the entire cavity of his chest, it's searing and heavy and weighs ghoul down. it hurts like this ‘cause he hadn't expected to see jet and pony together when he did; he hadn't seen it coming, and when it hit him it blinded him. he wasn't able to foresee it and stop himself from caring before it could, but it hurts almost even more ‘cause of _party_ , too. anyone could see it, the way that they flirt and do everything they can to get pony’s attention and make their affections obvious, it’s like seeing a little kid in love, pure lovesickness. love. that must be what ghoul feels for jet, that’s why seeing someone else make him happy feels like someone’s filling his lungs with shards of glass and saltwater from the ocean beyond zone 7.

 _fuck_ , he loves him, he fucking _loves_ jet star. maybe in some other time, some other world, this news’d be relieving, but now it just makes ghoul feel sick too; not the same sickness that party’s got, not the sickness where they’ll look at pony like they’re their whole entire world, no, ghoul’s sick in the _green_ way. the way that makes him feel like he’s about to puke all his guts up, makes him feel like he’s gonna die. he’s sick in the way where there’s botfly maggots wriggling around in his stomach and taking chunks out of his innards instead of butterflies floating around in there. there's so much wrong here. this is so _fucked_ up. it wasn't supposed to be like this. party and pony were gonna fall in love and then spend their days teaching the girl how to skate, and they’d dance while uncle kobra and cousin cherri brought grandpa d over to play with his little motorbaby, telling her about how big she was getting and how she'd one day man the radiowaves, too, and ghoul and jet were gonna… they were gonna be _something_. 

he’s not sure what it would’ve been, but ghoul knows he was supposed to have a future _with_ jet, even if it’s one that’s uncertain. so, if that's the case, then why the hell didn't it just turn out like that? why is everything so fucked right now? what the _fuck_ , this is so fucked. fuck. fuck fuck fucking fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking fucking fucking _fuck_. he wonders how many times he can think this word ‘til it doesn't sound like one anymore. _god_ , party’s his best friend, and he would never want to see ‘em hurt, he’d never want to see them feeling the way he does right now, but he doesn't know if it’s worse that they live in ignorance, not knowing the truth, but happy, or them actually knowing the truth, like they deserve to, but being devastated by said truth, being left like him right now? like they’re being incinerated by some invisible force? should he tell them about jet and pony? would they be mad? or would they be heartbroken? would they be alright with it, as long as pony’s happy, 'cause they love ‘em? or would they just stop caring? 

will _he_ stop caring, too? 

even as his mind flickers through all these thoughts, they’re all tinted so goddamn _green_ , which is now what ghoul’s beginning to personally classify as a type of psychological torture that almost surpasses that of bli’s. maybe they should figure out how to make other people feel like this, it’d make taking over the desert a whole lot easier, since right about now, he feels like he’s about to drop dead, and no one’s even laid a finger on him. he shifts from laying face-down to laying on his side, opting to quit trying to smother himself in the backseat of the trans am. ugh, kobes' _ass_ ‘s been here. _he’s_ been here for hours now… at least, ghoul _thinks_ it's only been hours. he lost track of time, but it’s dark out now, and he can't be bothered to leave, he can't be bothered to even convince himself to get up and move anymore. he wonders how long it’d take for him to start falling apart at the seams right here, ‘cause he just _can't_ be in the diner, not now. not right now. he can only just lay in hopes that he’ll die and start to rot away before jet and pony can announce their being together. their being — just thinking it is makes him feel like his world’s ending, being entirely fully consumed by green — in _love_. that they’ve both found someone who they are in love with and who makes 'em happy, and who isn't party _or_ ghoul.

then they’re both gonna have to pretend that they're happy for 'em and that they're unbothered, and then what? date each other or something 'cause they’re all either one’s got now, but never feel anything like they did with their… respective, unrequited, objects of affection, just be together for the sake of being together, 'cause misery loves company? ‘cause it’d keep 'em from doing something stupid that kills one of ‘em and makes it harder for kobes and everyone else to take care of the girl? it makes ghoul wonder, load of good that’s done him lately; what if pony hadn't been in the picture? would jet’ve settled for him, or was he always doomed to feeling this way about him, to not have this… _love_ be mutual? to be loved by him, but not in the same way he loves jet? would it’ve been the same with party and pony if the scenario were reversed? all this thinking, all this wondering, all this agonizing, and he still doesn't know the answer to any of it at all.

all he _does_ know is that he’s green. it’s so fucking green right now that it's started bleeding into his vision again, and he isn’t even able to see jet or pony right now. just thinking about it burns and it tears his insides apart like a starved animal let loose in a buffet, eviscerating him, eating him fucking _alive_ , if he’s even alive at this point anymore, and he has half a mind to actually get up this time, just to find his stash of those red pill party favors again, down a nice, fat little handful, and hope that one of those angels up there in the ozone layer takes pity on him and decide it’s about time he joined ‘em. he’s got half a mind to see if he can take some flying lessons with the trash cherubs and not come down, he really does.

ghoul shudders as he feels a draft glide over his face, feeling icy. he brings his hand up to his cheek to try and warm it up. it’s wet. he doesn't even want to fucking _think_ about why, he already knows. his throat’s on fire inside-out and the lump he didn't even know he had in there starts to choke him ‘til he starts seeing stars and stripes; the wetness burns his eyes like he’s got acid in ‘em and he swears he can feel actually his skin dissolve with every green-stained tear that rolls down his face. it all hurts and burns and above all is annihilating him in a sea of green flames and acid and whatever other goddamn substances that could physically harm him. it's not worth it. it’s just not fucking worth it. he thinks that he’s above this, better than letting himself shed tears over what he should've known not to get attached to, but he can't stop, they wont stop coming. his eyes feel like they're bleeding and won't ever stop and there's nothing he can do to stop it but take in breath after agonizing, scalding breath to try and calm himself. 

he’s tired, _god_ , he is so fucking tired. maybe now he can get some sleep, maybe he can imagine sleeping in a cute little green bed with a green blanket, in his dainty little green pj’s and with a green fucking binkie and green stuffed toy, in his little green bedroom with green walls and floors and lights — ‘cause he’s a _little fuckin’ baby_ who can't seem to grow up — and act like he’s not in a world where everything’s green. even if it isn’t true, one can still dream, pretend, believe, and _not_ feel like life’s takin’ a shit on you ‘cause your best friend who _you’re_ in love with isn't in love with you, and’s in love with the person your _other_ best friend’s in love with. yeah. though, it’d be way nicer if it were reality. ghoul closes his eyes, just letting the green fester where the black behind his eyelids should be, ‘cause he can't even fight _that_ off anymore, and sighs. nothing’s changed, nothing’s better, but hey, maybe this green really’ll kill him after all (ideally!).

so ghoul lays there, for who knows how long, just basking in the green, wasting away as it picks his bones apart like crows to a cadaver, being too far off in the swamp to notice or acknowledge or care for the driver’s side door opening, followed a couple thuds, then being slammed shut. he more or less registers the car going into ignition as it starts pulling out from its resting place in his and everyone else's sorry excuse for a driveway, but _does_ hear the “ _fuck_. i’m fucked, i’m so fucked,” loud and clear, coming from the unmistakable shock of red sitting in the front seat.

**Author's Note:**

> so.......fun fact i originally wrote this back in june because i wanted to try my hand at the prompt for day 5 of this year's [hyper thrust pride week](https://killjoynest.tumblr.com/post/619529395281051648/hyper-thrust-pride-week-2020), which was green, but i chickened out from posting it anywhere.... im posting this bc nine bullied me into doing it 💔💔  
> so allow me to reiterate pretty PLEASE read [nines half/poison's pov](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564220) bc its sexy sad and slaps and makes me ;___;


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